


Mad As A Snake

by DemonsPath



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Reincarnation, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:12:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14080689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonsPath/pseuds/DemonsPath
Summary: If there was one thing he had learned from the scheming powerhouse that was Obito Uchiha, it was that no one would suspect a loud, bumbling idiot.A Orochimaru-is-Skull fanfic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I accidentally stumbled across this prompt on @blackkat tumblr and the idea just fascinated me. I hoped I have done it justice.

Orochimaru remembered dying. Which was, well, seeing as compared to all the creepy things he had seen or done over the years, had not been that much weird at all. However, he knew something was different. It's the way he could not open his eyes or move his limbs. It's the way he could not feel chakra any longer, which in itself is impossible. Every being had chakra. He had studied it, eaten its’ knowledge and studies for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Experimenting it in every possible way in how he could use, how it could be applied. Had tweaked and turned his body into one glorified being that was him. That's suitable for his name and skills.

 

All of that, he could no longer feel.

 

Time passed, and he remembered more. Remembered every sin he had ever committed, remembered every disappointed frown his sensei and teammates had bestowed upon him. Remembered fighting a war just for the sake of his once estrange student, whose body he had failed to take over, whose arrogance still amused him oh so greatly. Lastly, he remembered his sons. Perfect experiments which he had created, his pride and joy. Whose lives, now that he could remember, he had sacrificed for.

 

Orochimaru had no regret, really. He has lived longer than anyone of his generations was capable of, had outlived some of the most brilliant minds – _silver hair and an infectious laugh, the smell of wolf and pack, of longing and of something that could no longer be_. He's the only one left who can still vividly recalled each and every war that had happened.

 

He would miss his sons, Mitsuki and Rogu, certainly. They who had brightened up his day and quieted his head, where equations after equations continued to assault his mind. He just wished he could have seen Mitsuki grown up, what he would become with his sun next to him side by side. He wanted to tease and spar with Rogu one more time. So that he could again feel pride overwhelming him every time his son executed the moves he had been taught flawlessly.

 

By the time he escaped from his reminiscent, it's almost time.

 

_Time for what, though?_

 

_Push._

_Come on now, you are doing great._

_In._

_Out._

_Push._

Oh.

 

Oh my, how ironic. All those time, years after years searching for proved of reincarnation. Losing time, blood and sanity just to find something, _anything_ , to prove that it existed, that it could happen. Someone up there was probably laughing themselves sick at him right now.

 

 _How cold_.

 

 ............................................

 

Sister Mary sighed tiredly. It's one of those days. Days which disasters after disasters follow her like a lost puppy. _‘They really need some new helping hands around this place’_ she thought with a grimace. Forty-two kids and still counting, only herself and five other sisters to manage everything. The funding was low, the faculty was old, this old church slash orphanage was falling apart day by day and people just kept dumping child after child on the steps of this place (one of these days, sister Mary swears to herself, she was going to have a talk with all those kids’ sperm donner. If you could not handle responsibilities, then be more careful. The least they could do is use protection, Lord helps her).

 

Luckily, most of the kids were very well-behaved. The older kids helped out whenever they can without her prompting, which made her feel grateful (and sad at the same time. They were all wonderful children, really. It made her unhappy every time a child had to grow up faster in order to survive).

 

Speaking of which, her eyes accidentally landed on one of her charge, Orochimaru.

 

That boy, she mused warmly, was such a particular child. He never cried, never whined and never clamoured for attention unless it was absolutely necessary. Ever since he was abandoned on her doorsteps. No letters, no names, no explanations. Just a bundle in a basket. Left and abandoned in the middle of a snowy night.

 

Those eyes, sister Mary ponders, knew too much, saw too much. She had always believed and lived by the saying ‘the eyes are windows to the soul’. His eyes, lilac with a tint of gold, always shone with intelligence, of amusement, and of curiosity. He looked at the children around him with a morbid sort of disgust and amusement like he could not believe he was being subjected to this torture that's called babysitting and making friends your own age (too cute, sister Mary chuckled fondly). His black hair, glints with a shade of purple, is long and lovely. Sometimes, whenever he helped out around the place, he would put it into a bun, and well, it was no wonder many boys here had had their first crush on him. _Lovely_ , she believed, was an understatement if one wanted to describe Orochimaru. Despite how sometimes his gaze would make her blood crawl, her instinct would yell at her to look away, to run, was a good kid. One that, sister Mary was certain, would one day leave this dump and would never look back.

 

She cared for all these children that were currently living under her care, really. But, ah, sister Mary was old. She had been doing this jobs for decades now. She had seen good kids, those who could have had a bright future, turned into drug dealers; smart kids, whose minds were the brightest, had had no other choice but to sell their bodies and sanity so that they could survive and live another day. She had learned her lessons. _This church would always be welcome you back_ – she had said, had promised every single kid that wanted to go out there and make a future, a living for themselves – _you would always have a place here_. However, those who had gone, those who could not be separated from their pasts, never returned.  Because of the shame, because they had thought this old church was no longer their home, or because they had thought she would be disappointed in them once she had known they had failed. All those children, those who _could have_ had a bright future.

 

Orochimaru, something told her, understood this. Knew all about it and more. That was why she knew, even though it was unbecoming of her to chug an entire bottle of wine, he would not judge. Sister Mary was not a saint. She was tired, she _should_ be retired, ought to leave somewhere far away (probably near the beach, she had always been fond of the view there). Let other poor soul crumble and break from watching and understanding the ugliness of humanity.

 

Silently, eerily, he sat beside her, brought out a bottle of sake she still had no idea where he got from, and share with her. They sat there, under the night, where the moon shone dimply with no stars in the sky, simply enjoying each other company.

 

 ............................................

 

All he could saw was red. Red of the flame that was currently swallowed the place which he had called his home for these past fifteen years. Being burned to the ground by an unknown group of people that were currently kidnapped all the kids left and right. _Ah,_ he distantly reflected, he knew this method. There were two main group of people that would want to kidnap children: for slavery and for experimenting. Judging from their appearance, he was willingly leaning towards the latter.

 

Orochimaru used to be a being of science, after all. He understood what was necessary in order to achieve a goal, in order to achieve a purpose. He understood it _very well_.

 

Nonetheless.

 

These people were burning down _HIS_ church. Where, however by an unfortunate method it was, he had been disposed on. This place had taken him in without a thought, had become his _home_. Where children always clamoured around him with awed and for protection. Where the sisters always smiled genuinely at him without disgust and thoughts, sincerity radiated off of them whenever he helped them taking care of those chores that never seem to end. Where, whose porch he sat under at night, watched the moon and the sky with a company that would not be at all frightened and revolted of him. Where he had felt content, had accepted that, maybe, _just maybe_ , living a civilian life was not that bad after all.

 

_Gone._

Everything was burning down in flame. The children were taken one by one (he could still hear their yelling, crying out for help; could imagine their faces, frightened and scared and _lost_ ). The sisters, he had heard gunshots, killed. And sister Mary, he considered blankly, was currently trying to protect him with all she had left.

 

Sister Mary, the person who he had come to so fond of. Who had had a glimpsed of who he really was, but still stuck around. Who genuinely had enjoyed being in his company. Whose arms were currently wrapped around his delicate-looking body, trying to shelter him from the flame that currently surrounded them. He laid there, stupidly, numb despite all the chaos that is happening around him.

 

He had naively thought this serenity would last, had carelessly been ill-prepared.

 

“How dare they?” – his voice whispered raspily, sister Mary’s body still shielding him from the blaze.

 

‘ _How dare they destroyed what had been his!’_.

 

He had felt content, he had begun to accept this new life in this new universe. Where none knew what he was capable of. Where he was not a wanted criminal. Where nothing from his past could haunt him any longer.

 

 _‘Blood’_ – he swore, sensing he was starting to lose consciousness. 

 

‘ _There would be blood.’_   With pain and grief _ ~~and blood~~_ , he vows with a vengeance.

 

He was Orochimaru, the Snake Sannin, and he would be damned if he let these insects get away with destroying what had been  _his!_

 

The last thing he registered is sister Mary’s cold body on top of him, still holding him in a tight embrace. It's as if even beyond her grave, this old lady still hopelessly trying to protect him from this world cruelty forever.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter completely ran away from me lol
> 
> _(;3 JL)_

Subject X2149 was one of the most successful achievements the Estraneo had ever produced.

X2149 knew this, the scientists knew this. Hell, even their mothers knew this. He's one of the most successful because he had yet to die. He's the most successful because he had given them fruitful products  _(He remembered the way their eyes had lit up with greed when every bone in his body began to shift and grow out of his skin, remembered the way their voices began to become more and more excited. Remembered how they could carelessly experimenting his life away for their better good)._

He had felt like he was burning inside out, had felt like every bone in his body was ripped out forcefully. It had been  _agonizing_. Back then, he had screamed his voice raw for help. He had begged, had pleaded for the pain to just  _stop_. But those scientists, those researchers, they had done  _nothing but standing there and taking notes_. After that, every day for him was a visit to the white room (Subject X2149 found himself detested the brightness which the room provided. He did not know why, but he just did). _Was this the meaning of his existence? Had he been born to only become these people puppet? To become an experiment?_

Subject X2149 barely remembered his life before he was ‘found’ by the Estraneo. What he could recall are his mother’s smiles and his father’s boisterous laughter. He could, sometimes, when he closed his eyes, tasted the smell of his mother’s home cook meal.

He could  _also_   _remember_  the fake and forceful smiles his parents have given him before they sold him to this infernal place.  

He  _knew_  the reason why he is here. He  _knew_ his father was in debt. His parents were scared. They were scared for their life so they had exchanged his life for theirs instead.

If Subject X2149 was any other sane person, he would have been bitter. He would have sworn revenge. He would have hated them with his whole being. But he only felt numb. Numb from the pain from all the experiments, from all the exercise they made him do.

He questioned his existence then.

He still questioned his existence even now.

____________

 

Orochimaru remembered being young once. Back when he still had his teammates and Sarutobi-sensei trusts. He reminisced a lot of things, these days. He recalled how lively his life had been, how he enjoyed all the teasing and all the banter with his team. How he relished being in a battle where every cell of his blood _sing_ with joy and excitement. He missed the time when losing to somebody is still an acceptable outcome, the time when a pair rough and warm hands could still intertwine with his own after each mock battle and training.

He remembered being chased out of Konoha, too (Orochimaru mused with a chuckle).

In a way, he felt grateful for the exile. He was caged, back then. He was the only one left on his team who had yet abandoned the village. The Slug Princess became a coward and ran away, the Toad Sage foolishly _~~carelessly~~_ stayed with the three orphans he just had met, and with Sensei being busy with looking after the village, he was left alone on his own. Had Orochimaru felt bitter? Well, he had felt abandoned, certainly. With no one left to keep an eye on him, with no one left for him to trust to have his back, it was no wonder how he had delved straight into the darkness, really. His morality had always been the loosest between the three of them.

Orochimaru, first and foremost, was a scientist. He had this _thirst_ for knowledge. He wanted to understand how everything and everyone works. He had not cared about how inhumane he had been. All he had cared about was  _the results, the knowledge_ he could obtain. He  _needed_ a moral compass to guide him and to make sure he did not cross the line. That Old War Hawk known this, had he not? Had Orochimaru not felt bitter, he would have applauded the whole scheme. Every single one of them, the strongest and brightest of his generation, slowly, but surely, slipped into the darkness with no intention of returning and not one person noticed until it was too late.

If was asked, he would be the first to admit he had been a monster in human skin. But Orochimaru had not always been that way, had he? He was nothing but loyal. He was _taught_ to be loyal. He was loyal to Konoha and to his team. He would unquestionably sacrifice his life for them. Orochimaru was loyal, yes. But he was not an idiot either. He was not blind and deaf to the fear and the terrified stares of the villagers every time they saw him walking down the street, to the sneers and the taunts when they thought he was not looking. He was not ignorant of all the plots and the manipulations happened to the village under the Old War Hawk’s hands in order for the bastard to achieve ‘true’ Konoha. However, at that point in time, no one asked or wanted his opinion any longer. Thus, he left the old bastard be.

He had not, truly, planned to start a village. But he needed a place to rest, a place to stay, a place he could freely do his experiments without being judged _(a place where he could feel belong)_. He remembered the time when he started travelling around, collecting orphans. Not out of the goodness of his heart, oh no, but a village needed its citizens and because no adults in their right mind wanted to live any approximately close to the Snake Sannin voluntarily, he had to get them by himself.

He had to admit, it was fun, those times on the road. Contrary to popular believed, with the exception of one Uchiha Sasuke, all his past experiments and orphans he collected over the years were completely accidental. Plus, he had, in all honesty, brainwashed no child. He had not stolen any child from their family, he had not threatened any family to give up their child. Really, they were truly orphans. Had he not taken them from the streets, had he not rescued them from being starved to death or getting killed, they would have been all dead anyway. Orochimaru might have twisted his words and hold back the truth, but he had never hidden his intention. He had never, once, lied to those orphans what he would have wanted to do to them.

(Uchiha Sasuke could have been a prime example that the Snake Sannin had not lost all his morality and sympathy. The boy had been as healthy as he could have been had he stayed in Konoha. Orochimaru gave the brat his Snake Summon Scroll, free of charge. He taught the boy some of his most powerful tricks and tactics. He made the boy on the same power level, or even more powerful than the Jinchuuriki and the pink hair girl from his team.

He could have brainwashed the Uchiha, made him one of his most loyal subject. He positively could have. After all, the boy had run away to him at the tender age of thirteen because of some rhetoric words, too young but still considered an adult with an – what did sister Mary call then? Ah - _impressionable mind_. It would have been _easy_ , _so much easy_. But he refrained himself (Sarutobi-sensei would have been proud, no?).

After all those things Orochimaru had done for him, the boy had the nerve to kill him in cold blood. Tch, the ungrateful brat).

 

…

Hm.

There was a fire.

Ah.

He still had business to obtain, did he not? Strange though, that he was still alive and whole. Orochimaru tried to feel his limps, tries to move his arms and legs. There was something on top of him - _t_ _he memory of sister Mary body shielding his_ , he could still smell the ashes which the burning had left behind. Smell burnt human fresh on top of him, around him, _but not from him_. Impossible.

_How could he…?_

Lilac, tinted with gold-pair of eyes opene. _Curiouser and curiouser._ He could not feel any burning on his skin, did not feel like he wants to burst his lung out from all the smoke he has breath in from the fire. No matter how sturdy sister Mary’s body could shield him, there should be some effect left. Nevertheless, he felt as healthy as he could be.

_How?_

And sister Mary’s body, her body was burnt, and yet, not that bad. Her body still remained the same after he had lost his consciousness.

_But how?_

Oh, my.

A new puzzle. Something unknown. Something new. Something which he had not yet had the answer to.

But first, Orochimaru licked his lips, let’s find those bastards who have had the guts burnt down _HIS_ home, shall we? (and if he got lucky, he might acquire some new, useful information from them, too).

 

________

 

There was someone watching him. 

Every bone in his body felt rattle. His instinct was screaming at him.  _There was someone else in his cell with him_.

 _How?_ The cell was always automatically locked to prevent prisoners and subjects escape (he had tried to break the lock and escape once. The experience has not been pleasant for him afterwards). But somehow, someway, there was someone else inside his cell.

 

**Serpent eyes, lilac tinted with gold glow in the dark.**

Wait.

Those eyes…

_“There must be a purpose for people being born into this world.”_

What? Who said that?

 

**Hands, pale and cold but warm at the same time, touch his face tenderly.**

There was a familiarity in the way he was being embraced.  Subject X2149 feel warm and, for the first time in his life,  _safe_. He knew this warmth, he knew this scent.  _He knew this person_.

But, how? How could he know this person when all his life have been subjected to being imprisoned in this vile place? How could he know this person when the life before here he only had his parents?

How?    

 

_“Maybe, just maybe, there is no purpose in life... but if you linger a while longer in this world, you might discover something of value in it. Like you found that flower. Like how I found you”_

 

He...

He was…

“Lord…Orochimaru?”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm still alive, yay. xD 
> 
> As for the lack of update, well...I was busy, then I was lazy, then I was busy and get lazy again. You get the idea, lol.
> 
> But anyway, I updated (yay me!) so enjoy!  
> p.s thks for all the reviews, too! I really appreciated them y'know

Jon Dickerson was a researcher, first and foremost. He was rather proud of the fact that he was talented enough for the Estraneo Famiglia to recruit him. Never mind the fact that he was freshly kicked out of the university because of some of his unusual orthodox experiments and theories. Every ~~mad~~ scientist or researcher had heard of the Estraneo - _“What an honour it was, to be able to work for someone who understood what needed to be done for the greater good”_. So really, apart from his moral being ~~very~~ questionable, John was any of your average researcher around these facilities, exceptional in his work and field, loving his job and living his dream.

It was also worth to mention that Jon also had a loving wife and an obedient son at home. For him, they were good for nothing, really, leeches that they were. It had been his mother who had despaired about his lack of _someone_ status and so had taken matters into her own hand and got him a wife. Nonetheless, he could do worse, he guessed. At least his house would be in an acceptable state to return to after a long day at work, and there would be a warm meal waiting for him every morning and every night, not to mention someone he could use to satisfied his needs whenever he felt the urges to. What more could a man want, then?

Jon did not see anything misplaced in his life. A job that basically made for his expertise?  Check. A family that care for all his needs? Check. New subjects for his experiments? Check. Some chick that was killing his colleagues left, and right? _Check_. Ah, he let out a contented sigh, everything was in order tonight as well.

…

Wait…

He turned, and the last thing he saw was purple tinted gold.

 

\--------

Apparently, Lady Luck had not completely abandoned him.

He had dived into this with only revenge in mind and instead what he found was a goldmine of information about this world. Orochimaru was shameless enough to use all these data he had found for his own gain, and he certainly felt no wrong in doing so (what’s done was done, after all. It would be a complete waste of resource to just throw all this away because its methods were of what people normally considered inhumane).

He was rusty, but it still inevitability considered a massacre. In fact, he hardly broke a sweat. It was almost too easy, he chuckled. All he had to do was to release all those children that were being imprisoned here. Those whose eyes filled with hatred for the bastards that had ruined their lives, filled with a want to revenge, to inflict back all the pain they had suffered through. Alas, most of them were barely strong enough to stand on their own two feet.    

However, all in all, this unexpected trip turned out to be most fruitful. He had information, he _might_ have new minions, and he had one of his own back.  Truthfully, with the exemption of Kabuto and Anko, he had not thought of any of his old subjects for years. Those he adored and remembered were not much, with his old team, his sons, and his snakes. Kimimaro, now that he met the child again (if he was not mistaken, about the same age when he had met him for the first time the last life, too), brought back memories. Someone who was so devoted that, after being resurrected, still wanted to seek out and served under him. A child, an orphan Orochimaru had collected because he had been curious about the boy’s family Kekkei Genkai. When he sensed a familiar energy was here, surprised was an understatement. He had thought he was alone in this world, with no one knew who he truly was, what he capable of.

 

(But then again, well, at least it was one of his own. So, small mercy).

 

\-------

 

Subject X2149…no, Kimimaro.

His name was Kimimaro, a loyal servant to Lord Orochimaru, the only Master he would ever serve.

Lord Orochimaru, who he had thought he would never be able to have the honour to serve under again. Who was standing right in front of him, wiping away his tears with a familiar coldness that he had not known he missed.

His memories from his past life were coming back to him, slow, but surely. He had wished desperately to be of used to his Lord one more time, only to be lost himself in the madness of his own mind. Was resurrected, only to be struck down again. He had become weak, had become of no use to the man who he had idolised and worshipped.

But now, oh. If these past years of suffering were what it took for him to meet his Lord again, then he would gladly struggle through them again if given the chance. Because, for him, when Subject X2149 received another set of memories of another life, one where he had _something_ to live for, _someone_ to protect, _somewhere_ to belong, where life meant every day waking up knowing he would be able to be of use to the man that had taken him in and given him a reason to live.

Therefore, Subject X2149 gladly stepped back and let Kimimaro took his place. Because Kimimaro knew of his use, because now _they_ had someone, and that feeling, knowing that there was someone out there for them to lay their life for, _was worth everything._

 


End file.
